Here
by BloodiedBowties
Summary: "Do you know where you are, Blaine?" One-Shot


**Title:** Here.

**Summary**: "Do you know where you are, Blaine?"

**Words: **~2,000

**Warnings**: Bullying, some homophobic language, claustrophobia.

**Rating**: T

**Pairings: **Klaine

**A/N: **Because this is a little confusing, here are some tips to help understand what's going on. I don't think you should need this information to understand, but it'll help. Everything you're going to read is in Blaine's head. Anything **bold** is spoken aloud, and dialogue is as marked – though not all of it is real. Some of it is. I hope you enjoy, lovelies! And please, let me know what you think!

Cross posting from tumblr, and no, I am not RIB.

* * *

I'm at the Lima Bean with Kurt, and we're sitting at our table near the counter which makes it easy to refill our coffees. I fully blame Kurt for my coffee addiction – I always said it was going to cause us problems in the future. All that caffeine.

But for now it's helping us solve our problems because it's both a neutral ground and a comfort to us. There's nowhere else we'd go to rekindle our relationship than in the place that practically housed it.

It was right here that I told him I love him. I can't wait to do it again.

"Kurt, there's a moment…"

No, it can't be that. I already used that. God, Blaine, you really should prepare your speeches more. It can't be something borrowed when you have an _engagement ring_ in your pocket. Step it up, kid.

I clear my throat and think about what I really want to say. Something like: Kurt, my entire world tilts towards you and I'm sorry it went off-kilter for a moment, but we're soulmates and I want to be with you forever and for always. I'll spend forever proving it to you if you'll have me. I love you, Kurt. Will you marry me?

It's not enough… but that's good. It'll do. I can work on it.

For once, it does get jumbled in translation. In fact, it's better than what I ever thought it could be. I don't kneel because I know Kurt would balk at the abuse of my designer clothes, but when I reveal the box from my pockets, it draws the attention of the entire coffee shop anyway. And Kurt's eyes are glistening with tears that enhance the colors of his eyes while everyone claps for us.

And he says yes.

I can't take my gaze away from the way the light jumps off the diamond on his left finger as his hand wraps around his coffee cup; it's an image I would capture if I had the abilities of a professional photographer.

Except this probably wouldn't happen because Kurt is right-handed. Well maybe if the cup was just sitting there – Kurt does like to hold it with both hands because they get cold so easily. Okay, so it's winter when I propose and there's enough chill in the air for Kurt to want to warm both hands on his coffee cup, so I can see the diamond on his hand, shimmering against the Lima Bean logo.

He takes a sip, but makes a face.

"My coffee doesn't taste right. I'm gonna ask for a refill," he says, getting up to go to the counter. I lift mine to take a sip, but the smell hits me first.

No no no. It smells like a gym, like sweat and old rubber.

You're not in the Lima Bean. You know it. No, I'm not ready for this yet! I don't…

I get up from the table and look around, trying to grasp onto anything to keep the reality here. But everyone is gone including Kurt. The tables fly back against the wall the way a magnet would attract its opposite and the walls slowly, but steadily inch forward towards me, looking to crush me in minutes.

I don't want to be here.

You're not here, you know where you are.

I'm not here. I'm…I'm… at the beach!

I'm at the beach.

I love the beach. It's sunny, but just breezy enough to not be sweltering. My skin doesn't burn, so I'm not worried, but Kurt is here with me and I have the distinct pleasure of helping him protect himself from the sun.

The lotion is cold against my palm, but as soon as I start rubbing it into Kurt's back, it warms up. I start in the center of his shoulder blades and rub outwards, making sure to cover his shoulders which are already starting to turn pink. I apply more sun block to his lower back, tracing the arc of his spine and hips.

He's so beautiful.

I can't help but to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck after I finish applying lotion there.

"What was that for?" Kurt asks, turning to look over his shoulder at me.

"My lips needed protection from the sun," I quip. "And you had a little extra."

His laugh is all I need to hear. I dig the umbrella into the sand so Kurt will have some shade. He's already lying on a long beach towel, reading the latest Vogue, and tapping his pointer finger lightly against the magazine along with the music coming from his iPod. I can hear the distinct chorus of:

**_You._**

**_Make me_**

**_Feel_**

**_Like I'm living a_**

**_Teen_**

**_Age dream_**

"Go on, honey, I know you want to get in the water."

I do. I really, really do.

I've never been a huge pool person, but get me in the ocean and I'm in my element. It's the still water of pools that makes me antsy. But with the ocean - the waves rushing in, the tides so easily able to change the view, the sea shells and sea pebbles glinting with color – it's never boring.

I pick up my boogie board and connect the Velcro strap around my wrist so it won't be pulled away by the force of the waves. The water is comfortably warm, so I have no problem wading in all the way to my waist. When the next wave comes towards me – it's a big one! – I duck under and submerge myself completely in the water.

The boogie board tugs, but I still have control of it.

I swim out a little further, as the water is deep enough that I have to use the board to stay afloat.

I gaze beyond the curve of the Earth, where water meets sky and something unknown waits at the horizon. Whatever it is – it's moving towards me.

A large wave, so big in the sky as it comes bearing down on me and I feel so very small in the inevitability of it. I can hear Kurt screaming to me from shore, but he doesn't dare step foot in the water. I don't want him to and so he can't.

The boogie board tugs away from me, trying to get back to the beach and to Kurt. But with my arm awkwardly thrown back with its leash, it can't get very far.

I'd move if I could. God, would I move if I could. And somehow, even without the boogie board and without treading, I remain statically above the water.

It's like the entire world is moving around me – that I'm the fixed point, the pole, the core that does nothing but remain while chaos swirls around.

I can still hear Kurt screaming, but his voice is fading further and further away. The sharp tug of the boogie board continues to pull at my shoulder, and ever persistent, the wave comes closer and closer until…

I gasp.

You're not there.

Dammit, you're not there, Blaine. Not at the beach or the Lima Bean or anywhere else.

No, I'm outside and it's drizzling, I can feel it on my arm.

Those are tears, idiot. Yours. You're _here,_ Blaine. You're not getting _out_ of here.

I don't want to be here. I don't… I'm at Dalton Academy, the Warblers are singing and I can hear their harmonies while I descend the stairs.

There's nothing but your breathing, Blaine.

**_You._**

**_Make me_**

**_Feel_**

**_Like I'm living a_**

Nightmare. I'm caught in the literal worst of my nightmares - stuck, compact, and unable to move my pretzeled limbs even the slightest. Don't move because it hurts your cramping legs, don't breathe because it sends pain straight to your shoulder. Don't tilt your head to ease the tension at your neck because there's _nowhere to go_.

You're in New York.

Not going to work, you don't know New York well enough to paint that picture.

I know the ice rink. You're at Bryant Park in New York, and Kurt is holding your hand as you skate around each other. This time the ring is on his hand and there's a child in front of you. A boy about 8 years old.

It's not cold enough for this. It's too warm in here. Oh God, it's so hot and I feel the sweat and the tears pouring. I want to fan myself but I can't…

**Move!**

Please move. I can't take this anymore, move! Please.

Please. God. Someone find me. **I'm here. I'm right here. In the locker.**Here.

There's no one there to hear you, Blaine.

I'm…at the Lima Bean and the walls are closing in tighter and I try to run but there are no doors and all four sides reach me, squeeze me tight between them.

I'm at the beach and the wave crashes down upon me, the water submerging my head and I can't move so I'm drowning.

I'm there and I'm at Dalton Academy where there's no music and Bryant Park where we're ice-skating even though it's hot. And I'm at all of those places at once, the images flashing me away from where I really am, until they all blend together into one and there's no denying anymore.

**Help me!**

I'm at the school and it's dark.

_What you doin' bringing a fag to the party? Think you're allowed to dance with the rest of us?_

No, not then. Anything but then. I'm at the school – a different school - and it's not dark, but it's empty. I'm just leaving the theater when two hockey players come at me from behind.

_Nuh-uh Anderson. You don't get to be top of the class. You're not the top! You're the bottom. You hear? You and all those loser Glee kids, but especially you._

_You know why you piss me off so much, huh? You act like something you're not. Fairy._

_Just remember your place, Anderson. Remember it._

Stuff him in the locker.

_Stuff him in the locker._

That'll bring him down to size.

_That'll bring him down to size. Get in there, Anderson. See. Now isn't that a nice fit?_

**No! Let me out of here, please!**

You're going to die here. I'm supposed to graduate in a week and I'm – going - to- die- here. Like this.

"Blood! Over here!"

_What you doin' bringing a fag to the party?_

Oh god, they found me. Oh dear god.

I'm at the beach and it hurts to breathe because my arm is thrown back. And my legs are cramping so I can't swim and I'm stuck in the sinking Lima Bean in my ice-skates but it's so hot. And I'm drowning as a Warbler flies by. Pavarotti?

I hope he's not drowning too.

_You're killing him! It's what he deserves._

_Shut the lock! Shut the lock!_

Breathe, Blaine. Think of Kurt.

"Blaine?"

You love Kurt.

**_You._**

**_Make me._**

**_Feel._**

"Blaine, is that you? Hold on, son. We're right here."

**_Like I'm living a_**

The water. Oh god the water.

**Please.**

"We've got it! Do you know where you are, Blaine?"

Here.

"You're in a locker. We're gonna get you out. Can you tell me who did this to you?"

Them.

"Blaine? You've got a head injury, you gotta' stay awake, kiddo."

**Kurt.**

"Kurt? Who's Kurt?"

**Kurt.**

"Okay, kiddo. We'll call him. Just don't… Blaine! Don't fall asl-"

* * *

**End Note:** idk. I hope you liked the thing.


End file.
